Not bad
by hummingyay
Summary: Prompt: They messed up the dorm arrangements so now we are roommates and can't stand each other AU. - Makorra, college AU
1. Chapter 1

Mako was dog tired.

Today, the junior had taken two 400 level exams delivered by Satan himself, spent five hours rotting away during his shift at the university gym, spent another hour and a half studying for another midterm that he was sure to fail tomorrow morning, and he _still _had a lab report that needed to be submitted by midnight.

'This is the last time you go for 19 credit hours, you stupid, stupid idiot,' he scolded himself viciously as he stomped upstairs to his second floor dorm room. 'Next time, use that head of yours and you won't have to die buried underneath all your textbooks.'

Mako's dorm room—room 212—was all the way at the end of the hall. When he reached the top of the stairs, he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He lived on a relatively quiet floor, but on those days where he could hear music playing from the stairwell, _he knew_ who was there.

Mako felt his day worsen the smallest bit.

He groaned when he reached his door at last. As he suspected, it was _his _room that was making all that racquet at seven in the evening. He opened up the door and quickly slipped in, slamming it behind him.

"Korra! I can hear your music all the way from the stairs! Turn it down!"

Mako's roommate, a exercise science major who went by Korra, popped her head out from inside their joint kitchen. She grinned coyly at her annoyed roommate.

"Well good," she replied before disappearing behind the wall, "nobody else has good enough taste, so I thought it'd be beneficial for all you douchebags to learn something."

"That didn't even make sense."

"Yes, it did."

"Whatever. Turn your shit off."

"No can do, buckaroo," Korra danced around the corner in time to swat Mako's hands away from her radio; warning him silently with her spatula. "Just relax, man. Take a load off."

Mako rolled his eyes.

_This _was what happened when you agreed to have a roommate. Mako still couldn't believe that they were still in the same living space, seeing that it was RCU's own fucking fault in the first place. 'Who even _mistakenly _pairs a guy and a girl together?' he thought to himself, eyeing Korra as she flitted around their kitchen with only a white camisole and a baggy pair of sweats on.

He caught himself staring appreciatively at his roommate for the umpteenth time that week.

'No, _no. _Danger zone. Don't go there.'

It was already bad enough having an annoying roommate who enjoyed blasting swing music from _decades _ago at the most inopportune times and who insisted that they played strip poker at 3am on Wednesday nights (_'Mako wake up. Let's play._') and who bellyached _all the damn time _about the dickhead who worked with her at the little Water Tribe style restaurant down the road. Why did she have to be _so _attractive?

Mako may have been a stiff at times, but he wasn't blind. He knew Korra could get it. From her killer body to her dark chin-length hair to her clear blue eyes and that _fucking annoying laugh that could make his head swim if he wasn't too careful, _Mako knew she was dangerous to someone like him.

And he supposed that's why she grated on his nerves so easily.

He scowled as the girl passed him, bumping her hip against his as she crossed into the main suite, balancing two plates of food in each of her arms. He watched as she set them down on the coffee table and reached over the grab the remote, switching on Netflix.

Absentmindedly, Korra addressed Mako as she flipped through the options, "Mako, come here. Oh, and shut the music off. _Gently_. If you break my shit, I swear to Raava, you'll be pissing through a tube for the rest of this semester."

Mako scowled at the girl but obeyed nonetheless. When he took his seat next to her on the worn down sofa, he noticed that she had cooked up something for the both of them. It appeared to be seaweed noodles—a specialty of hers as a Water Tribe native, grilled arctic hen, and _sea prunes_. This wasn't the first time Korra had done something unreasonably nice for him without any strings attached. Mako wasn't used to having someone so casually care for him and the fact that Korra did it so effortlessly made him…

…well, it made him hate her a little less.

"You made some for me too?" he asked.

"No, I made two plates for myself," she replied sarcastically, the corner of her lips quirking upwards into a small shit-eating smirk. Mako couldn't help but to do the same.

"I hate sea prunes," he lied smoothly.

"Well, that's too damn bad," Korra said, unruffled by his claims, "You're gonna eat it and you're gonna watch some movies with me and you're gonna like it."

"You're not really giving me many options here, are you?" he quipped, breaking apart his chopsticks and digging into her admittedly delicious meal. Korra snorted, grabbed her plate, and pressed play.

"You're learning well."

Mako didn't retire to his room after that. Instead, he worked in the living room. And somewhere between typing up his hellish lab report due at midnight and Korra closely curled up by his side while binge watching _Parks and Rec_ for the 10th time that month, Mako decided that this arrangement wasn't that bad after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Mako thanked his lucky stars that his and Korra's dorm room came with a washer and dryer set. The university was accepting more students every year, and so finding the time and the room to do one's laundry was becoming more of a chore than anything else. Mako remembered his first year living in the Beifong building down the street; there were so many freshmen and upperclassmen crammed into the six-floor building that Mako would actually go _weeks _without seeing the laundry room.

No, that year, he added "can hand wash own laundry" to his list of can-dos.

Now, despite the fact that he was _so _fucking happy he had his own unit in the comforts of his room, where he didn't have to keep a close eye on his laundry or constantly check the mobile app for machine vacancies in the building, he still had a problem.

Their unit was a black hole; every time Mako put a load in, _something _would turn up missing. It was understandable if a sock or a handkerchief disappeared somewhere between meticulously sorting out the dirty laundry and pulling it out of the dryer; those were the small things, but _hoodies_? _Shirts_?

Somebody was stealing Mako's shit and he needed to get to the bottom of this.

One afternoon, after working another grueling five-hour shift at the university gym, Mako hauled his heavy body up to room 212. Thankfully, the floor was silent, which either meant that Korra was either binge watching another series on Netflix—she had recently started on an anime rampage, having finished three series during the weekend—at class, or tearing up some gym equipment (though Mako doubted the last option since the girl _loved _to bother him whenever she came to work out with Asami, her best friend.)

The first thing Mako did when he entered his apartment-style suite was check the dryer. He had emptied a load in before he left to start the day; Korra only washed her clothes on Thursdays, so leaving them in the dryer after they were finished wasn't a problem.

The hinges of the old machine groaned in protest as Mako pried the door open.

A quick inventory of its contents revealed that the clothes snatcher had gotten their grubby little hands on one of his fluffy sweaters.

Mako frowned; his grandmother knitted that for him last month.

Who could possibly be responsible for this? Mako racked his brains, trying to search for an answer. Nobody ever visited their apartment, other than Asami, but she was with Korra the whole time, so that would—

"Oh, you're back already, Mako."

-of course.

'_Korra._' Mako performed a crisp about face, whipping in the direction of his totally guilty roommate. There, leaning against the doorframe, was Mako's roommate wearing his missing sweater. Mako felt his breath leave him all at once.

He'd been struggling the entire semester with the fact that his roommate, the tough, rough, buff powerhouse _Korra_, was a _bombshell_. Seriously. Of all the annoyances Mako had to deal with this semester, hiding his attraction to his dark-haired, blue-eyed roommate was probably the biggest annoyance of all.

Typically, he could brush her off or tell her to go away, but with the girl standing their wearing _his _clothes…

His self-control was waning with every passing day.

"How was work?"

"You're wearing my sweater," he deadpanned in an attempt to appear unimpressed.

Korra observed the garment in question briefly before shrugging.

"It was cold, and I was too lazy to go back into my room to look for something, so I just yanked this out of the dryer."

Mako sighed, glaring nastily at the girl.

She grinned slyly and wrapped her arms around herself, "Oh, don't be cranky. It looks better on me, anyway."

"Better on _you_?" he spat. His subconscious agreed fervently, but was quickly smacked down. "Get over yourself."

"I'm just being honest," she said, crossing the room to join Mako by the dryer.

"You're crazy!" he bit out. Korra laughed, continuing her quick strides across the room.

"You're a liar."

The dangerous glimmer that shone in her eyes made him uneasy; he swallowed audibly and hastily took a step back. Korra's predatory grin widened, she stepped closer. The pair continued this cycle of advance, retreat, advance, retreat until Mako's back hit the wall of their dorm room.

His heart was sprinting as his breaths came out in short huffs. What the hell was wrong with him? This wasn't what he was expecting to happen. This was _Korra_. She was supposed to be his annoying roommate, not this stupid, beautiful, loony girl who made him dinner when he didn't ask for it and made him stay up all night with her to binge watch Fullmetal Alchemist and stole his ugly fluffy grandma sweaters while insisting that she looked better in it. None of this made sense.

Her hands reached out, wrapping warm, calloused fingers around Mako's wrists. He was trapped.

Mako was trapped by Korra and he _knew _it.

Korra smiled that same stupid smile she gave whenever she wanted to catch Mako off guard. The effect of it worked.

With his head clearly disconnected from the rest of his body, he could only watch as she came closer to him, pressing the softness of her curves against his hard frame. His face erupted into flames, spreading all the way from the tips of his ears to the back of his neck. Everything was unbearably hot.

Korra stood on the tips of her toes and pushed herself up to properly look at Mako.

"Admit it. You like me."

Did he like her?

Absolutely, but did Korra need to hear it? Did she _really _need him to verify that he was so pathetically infatuated with her?

'_Oh fuck it.'_

"You're so damn annoying," Mako snapped, moving his hands to grip Korra's. Her eyes flew open in surprise, but she didn't move back, wanting Mako to continue. "You play your shitty music too loudly, and you always make me stay up into the early morning because you need someone to watch your stupid anime with. You're stubborn and impulsive and you never know when to quit. You're always so quick to get mad and you never want to listen when someone tries to correct you."

Mako stopped to briefly appreciate the dazed look in Korra's eyes. For once, the girl was _speechless_. He felt his lips twitch into a small smile before continuing, his tone lacking the venom from before. Mako's heart thudded heavily in his chest as he continued, the pounding sound loud against his eardrums. The full force of Korra's gaze was still turned upon Mako and more blood flooded to his cheeks.

God, this was so _embarrassing_, but Korra insisted on it and her mouth was shut tightly, so—

"What I'm trying to say is: as much as you drive me crazy, I also think you're pretty amazing."

"So, you do like me?" Korra asked hopefully.

The girl who gazed into his eyes wasn't exactly the same as before. With wide eyes glued onto Mako's, he could sense her sudden caution at the recent series of events. It was embarrassing talking about this stuff, but Mako knew she wouldn't drop it until he told her point blank. He also knew that if she thought he was joking with her, she'd punch him in the face and not speak to him for the rest of the semester.

His answer eagerly slipped from his lips, "Yes, I—"

He moved to say more, but was silenced at the feel of soft, warm lips pressing against his own. Korra threw herself at Mako, frantically closing the distance between the two of them. Mako felt his back hit the wall Korra had trapped him against, but stood still once he realized what was going on. He surrendered to his primal urges and, wrapping two strong arms around Korra's smaller frame, he pulled her against his body again, pressing heated kisses against Korra's lips.

They separated moments later, when neither had anymore breath to continue.

The room was quiet with only the sounds of their mingled breaths to punctuate the heated air. Korra tucked her head underneath Mako's chin, harshly panting against the column of his throat.

"I _knew _it," she said at last. "I fucking knew it. Mako, life is so much easier when you're honest with your feeli—_mmph!_"

Mako, having heard enough of her smug lectures, yanked her up to his face again. He kissed her slowly, feeling rather triumphant at how easily she melted in his arms. When they broke apart again, Mako was pleased to see that Korra was blushing darkly.

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and smirked.

"You're still annoying," he said. Korra grinned widely and leaned forward to plant a chaste kiss on Mako's lips.

"Well, you still said that you like me, so it's okay," she disentangled herself from her lover's hold and disappeared into the kitchen, "Now, what do you want for dinner?"

Mako rolled his eyes, slammed the door of the dryer, and threw himself on the couch in the living room. He quickly booted up Netflix and selected the episode of Fullmetal Alchemist they had left off at last night before answering Korra, who was already hard at work in the kitchen.

"Anything but sea prunes."


End file.
